My true feelings about furniture

I've been at "furniture camp" for the last month. Otherwise known as the MESDA Summer Institute at the Museum of Early Southern Decorative Arts in Winston-Salem, NC. I was incredibly excited to come and learn more and see what this would have in store for me. I interned at MESDA as an undergraduate during my Salem College Jan Term, 2005. Going in, I didn't consider that I've never really a) studied colonial American and b) don't really like furniture as a subject of study. These were probably considerations to take before I signed up.

But I did all of my pre-course reading. And I found it interesting. Sure probate inventories and ads for runaway slaves aren't the most scintillating reading, but I managed to get through them and get excited about the course. And I got to look at nice pictures of furniture. And I was okay.

Then I got here. I learned a lot about material culture--lots more than I'd ever learned before. Pulling together inventories, court records, archaeological information, decorative arts, anthropology, and history to create a new course of study was exciting and interesting. So many things to see and look at. Then came my object for study. A blanket chest. From eastern North Carolina. (pictured above) From the turn of the eighteenth century. I was not thrilled.

I tried to examine this piece and why it would be interesting. I couldn't come up with anything. I just wanted a nice coffee mug, plate, punch bowl--anything made of clay!--to study. No such luck. I was going to learn all I could about this chest and it was going to kill me, I was pretty sure. Then I started to ponder how someone could get a degree in decorative arts and not care about furniture at all. My thesis has furniture aspects, and I'm not recoiling at the thought of that. Why don't I find furniture interesting? I can't tell you that, any more than I can tell you why I love ceramics. After 4 long weeks of wondering and fretting, I have one conclusion:

I don't like furniture until the 19th century. And even then it's touch-and-go. I like it to sit on, to lie upon, to eat at, but I don't know that I want to study it forever. Fortunately, there are lots of people who do. I'll look at all the plates and you can take the table and chairs. For now though, I'm just happy to return to the 20th century and studio craft.

Photo courtesy MESDA object photograph files. For amazing information, photographs, and research materials about Southern decorative arts and culture prior to the Civil War, MESDA is one of the best resources you could have. I am very grateful to the people of MESDA and Old Salem for this experience and highly recommend it to those interested in this time period, decorative arts, and material culture.

Who wants machine made?

I walked in to my kitchen this morning to discover this lovely collection of cups from last night sitting on our counter, bathed in sunlight. I will admit to taking some license in moving an actual glass out of the way for the photo, but I loved seeing our collection of handmade objects along the counter. The tallest tumbler in the back was made by the man who taught me pottery for two years at Montgomery Community College, Mike Ferree. He's a phenomenal craftsman, and this shot totally blocks the beautiful salt-glazed texture, the use of gold slip and green celadon, and the slight carving Mike added to keep the cup from getting to slippery when condensation formed on the outside. The two yellow and ones with black stripes (really, they're green) are from my dinnerware set. The back left tumbler is a wood-fired one I purchased at the American Craft Council Baltimore craft show last year. I used to have trouble buying pottery, since I figured I could make it myself. But, the longer it's been since I've turned or fired anything, I've decided supporting other artists (craftsmen) is more important than my pride. The tumbler closest is my lovely roomie's--a fellow potter! Her's is wood fired and has some awesome zig-zags running down the side for a fantastic visual and tactile texture. The coffee mug is my coffee mug. My constant morning companion. The little piece that gets me going in the morning. It probably should be washed, but that can wait.

Bonus pottery: There is a utensil holder behind all of this, made by my great friends at Whynot Pottery. I spent 2 (or 3?) lovely summers working for them in their fantastic shop. If you're headed to NC and near Seagrove, pop by and visit them. They have beautiful stuff. And the drive up to their shop is one of the most beautiful vistas you'll get.

Summer is Upon Me

Since I moved to DC in August of 2008, people here consistently ask me about the humidity in NC, my home state. I always laugh and tell them it's humid in NC and I'm pretty sure DC has nothing on it. I lied. The people here know what they are talking about. Maybe it's because I walk more here than I ever did in NC, or that my apartment isn't air conditioned, but I'm pretty sure the humidity here is way worse than any of the 23 summers I spent in NC.

But all of this heat and summery weather has me thinking about last summer. I didn't experience much of the DC summer as I hopped from Newport, RI to Limoges, France, to Anchorage, AK. As I walked down 2nd st. SE here in DC the other day I was reminded of Paris. The humidity, the houses, the leafy trees, they all reminded me of walking down leafy streets with amazing houses. To be clear, Paris apartments are much cooler than DC rowhouses. In being transported back and dreaming of one day going to Paris where my trip isn't a huge whirlwind of visiting every tourist hot-spot in 3 days, I thought of my favorite painting.

Olympia by Edouard Manet. It's in the Musee D'Orsay and, sadly, I didn't get to see it when I was there. It's on the list of reasons why I need to go back. This is such a risque painting. It was introduced to me in my senior year of high school by my very hyper-sexualized AP English teacher. Oh, the things I learned that year that probably didn't need to. I finished an assignment early and Mrs. Graham (aforementioned teacher) had a book of 100 important paintings or some such thing and gave it to me to entertain myself while everyone else finished what they were doing. She told me I would have to tell her what my favorite painting was at the end. It was Olympia. It was sexy, amazing, and I found it incredibly intriguing.

Fast forward 4 years to my senior year of college as an art history major. We're studying Impressionism and Manet gets a nice mention. We learn all about Olympia and her basis in historic paintings of women. The great thing about Olympia is that Manet acknowledges that history, but throws it away at the same time. (Is he a Postmodernist?) Olympia is based on a variety of paintings featuring reclining nudes, but is most often associated with Titian's Venus of Urbino. Sure, they're both nude, but the Venus is much more demure than Olympia.

Venus is blonde (angelic!); Olympia is brunette (earthy, base, evil!). Venus has handmaids in the background, preparing her clothes; Olympia's maid brings flowers (presumably from a customer/suitor) rather than clothes, further suggesting to us that she has no intention of getting dressed any time soon. Venus casts her gaze to the side; Olympia looks straight into our eyes. But my favorite changed symbol telling us that Olympia is no demure, virginal Venus: Venus has a small dog, Olympia has a black cat. Much like the blonde/brunette symbolism, dogs represent kindness and friendliness. Having a small dog is the sign of a well-bred lady. A black cat matches the dark hair as cats are associated with evil, darkness, and ill-breeding.

Maybe it's because I'm a brunette. Or maybe because I just like how forthright Olympia is. But whatever the reason, this painting still intrigues, excites, and amazes me. Even the Nocturne Radio doesn't amaze me like this does. Here's hoping for a return to Paris to see it in person!

Wherein I solve Art v. Craft

I can't solve Art v. Craft. I'll be honest. I'll admit defeat. This debate is older than I am and probably will not be resolved in my lifetime. I recently saw a button on Etsy that caused me to throw up my hands with the realization that no matter how much I write, I can't ever solve this debate single-handedly. The button in question features a pregnant woman and the text read "I'm SO crafty, I make people." Cute. But not helping my cause. When "craft" is now creeping into reproduction, I think I've lost all footing for serious study.

And that makes me sad. I want to argue so passionately for craft. For fine craftsmanship. For people who want to knit in their spare time. For those who occasionally dabble in the line between fine art and craft. Decorative arts tries to walk that line. Decorative arts is very easily defined as "the arts concerned with the production of high-quality objects that are both useful and beautiful." (According to my handy Mac dictionary widget.) But let's dig a little deeper in to that. What counts here?

- ceramics: soup tureens, Greek amphoras, Della Robbia tondos

- clothing: dresses, shirts, boots

- sliver: muffineers, vases

- jewelry: brooches, necklaces

- wood: furniture in a variety of forms

There are many other things that count, but I think by now you're getting the idea. So, where do Etsy sellers or this strange object fit in that? Well, Etsy sellers run the gamut from traditionally trained craftspeople to Do-It-Yourself folks who hope to make a small income from their hobby. The object linked to above (a memory jug) is a type of folk art. Both of these are subsets of craft. The best way I can explain this is the very, very simple chart above. I hope this provides some help in the Art v. Craft debate as I'm pretty sure I'll never solve it.

Apologies for the lack of posts in the last few months. Thesis is officially approved and it's now summer break, so hopefully I'll get back to posting more regularly!

Nocturne Radio

Now that the thesis proposal is turned in, I have nothing to do but wait. Okay, that's not really true, I have lots of other work to attend to, but when reading this today, I was reminded of seeing a version at the Minneapolis Institute of Arts. Which in turn reminded me of the Nocturne Radio, also at the MIA. (If you give a girl a Bauhaus designer...)

I know that as you're looking at the incredibly blue picture above, you're not overwhelmed. To be honest, neither was I as I memorized facts about it in Survey of Dec Arts 2 at this time last year. Made by Walter Dorwin Teague in 1937, manufactured by the Sparton Corporation, made of glass. Yeah, sure. It's a radio. And I was told it was a giant radio. The measurements on the MIA website list it as "H. 46 x W. 43 1/4 x D. 12 in." But that still doesn't really give you any idea as to how imposing, startling, and life-changing this radio is.

This radio is part of the Northwest Modernism Collection, which is tucked nicely away on the third floor of the institute. I was visiting this fall and looked forward to seeing iconic works by designers I'd come to love over the previous year. But none of this prepared me for what would happen when I would turn the corner into the exhibit space and find myself confronted with this marvel of design. I was speechless. The radio was breathtaking. It was huge, but not imposing. The reflective glass front was inviting, not repelling. I wanted to touch it and absorb all its perfect design glory through my skin. This sounds disturbing, doesn't it? But I was enthralled. It was a religious experience. Sadly, it was against a wall, so I could not fully appreciate it in the round, but I leaned as close as possible to absorb every aspect of it. From the sides and the front--I couldn't pull myself away. But for my deep abiding respect for the rules of "no touching!" in museums, I would have hugged this radio. There are other iconic modern pieces in this collection, and it covers a range of things from American to European to Arts and Crafts to Art Deco. But none struck me or affected me so deeply or so powerfully as the Nocturne Radio.

According to the entry about this radio, it was "intended to appeal to men, who supposedly would be enthralled by its futuristic form and space-age technology." Perhaps I have the same taste of a man of the 1930s, but that's fine by me.

A Brief History of Art v. Craft: Part 2

Secession Style in Austria

After Ruskininan ideals permeated England, they hopped across the Channel and filtered through Europe. In the late 19th century, society underwent great changes and this was reflected in art. Art Nouveau is the name given to the movement that grew out of this desire for change, most closely associated with France and Belgium's "whiplash" lines, like we saw here with Guimard.

But it was Austria and the Secessionists who best embraced the ideas of the artisan-craftsmen. After pulling away from the state-sponsored fine art program (thus the name "Secession") Gustav Klimt, Koloman Moser, Otto Wagner and others created the Wiener Werkstatte to give students of the Secession a place to practice their craft, much like Ashbee's Guild of Handicraft. The leaders of the movement overlapped from fine arts--such as Klimt--and the decorative arts--like Moser--and worked together to created gesamtkunstwerks. Their building in Vienna is imposing, yet with a sense of forward-thinking classicism. With it they combined architecture, fine art, and decorative arts and promoted the ideals of new art that would elevate society. Unlike Morris, the Secessionists realized the expense of handcrafted objects was a limiting factor. Rather than elevate all of society, they specifically targeted the middle class and promoted their quality works to elevating this sector to a greater plane of well-decorated existence. The goal was to "produce good, simple domestic requisites" that would "redeem middle class taste" while simultaneously "proclaiming the nature of the material." (Greenhalgh, Art Nouveau, 305-306)

They were able to do much of their work as a group through the Wiener Werkstatte. As a group, they were given commissions to create homes, furniture, and art that embraced their specific style. The Purkersdorf Sanatorium, built 1904-1905, was designed by Josef Hoffmann, but the furniture (pictured above) and interior decoration were designed by other members of the Werkstatte. They also worked as individuals, each with a unique decorative style that embraced not the ideas of art or craft, but the idea of being artisans. There is no line between the two for the Viennese Secession, they are equal parts of a whole that must work in tandem to produce beautiful and functional objects.

Image from here.

A Brief History of Art v. Craft: Part 1

William Morris and the Arts and Crafts Movement

This is much more difficult than I originally thought it would be when I decided to tackle this prickly subject. There is just so much history at play in the early part, and then so many feelings as we move into the 20th century. But, we'll start with Morris and his beliefs about elevating handicraft to the same level as fine art. He believed there wasn't a difference, and that all art, be it of the "fine" category or "craft" category should be used to elevate people.

The Industrial Revolution allowed mechanization to play a role in the creation of furniture, metal, glass, and other previously only-made-by-hand works in ways that changed the relationship of craft-maker and object. Some people embraced this idea, seeing that more pieces could be produced more quickly and at a lower cost. William Morris, and others, like C.R. Ashbee, wanted to keep the production costs low, while simultaneously re-connecting the maker and the object. Morris, connected to a variety of other artists who were part of the Pre-Raphaelite Movement, designed furniture, wallpaper, textiles (above), and other decorative arts for craftsmen to create in workshops. His goal was to bring the maker back to the forefront of the object and to reject the machine, while keeping things at a low cost for everyone to afford. If he could bring together the craftsman and object, he could also make good design available for everyone and thus change society's inequalities.

Sadly, this model did not make money for Morris, nor did it change social inequality, and he was forced to change his ideas. But the idea of bringing the object and the maker together on a deeper level struck a chord with a number of people, not just in England, but across Europe and into the United States. A new paradigm was created for the role of craftsmen in society.

I'll be honest: I don't feel like I discussed this well at all--I didn't even mention Ruskin! But its hard to explain this in so small a space. So here's a brief bibliography to learn more about the Arts and Crafts movement.

Cumming, Elizabeth, and Kaplan, Wendy, Arts & Crafts Movement. London: Thames & Hudson, 1991.

Naylor, Gillian. The Arts and Crafts Movement: A Study its Sources, Ideals and Influence on Design Theory. London: Studio Vista, 1971.

Pevsner, Nikolaus. Pioneers of Modern Design: From William Morris to Walter Gropius. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2005.

Todd, Pamela. William Morris and the Arts and Crafts Home. Bath, England: Palazzo Editions Limited for Chronicle Books, 2005.

Image from here.